


The Seven Gates

by My_Trex_has_fleas



Series: The Keepers and The Council [2]
Category: Being Human (UK), The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Blood and Gore, Demons, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Magic-Users, Multi, Other, Vampires, Violence, Were-Creatures, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 21:47:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5602210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Trex_has_fleas/pseuds/My_Trex_has_fleas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Mitchell has been lost to the Shadow Realm for a year and a day. It's now time for Anders to get him back.</p><p>This is the sequel to Twilight Of The Innocents.</p><p>ON HIATUS</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Outer Mongolia

Annabelle Hardy adjusted her neck scarf, smoothed her skirt and took a deep breath. She was excited, that much would have been obvious to anyone who knew her.

And she had reason to be.

She’d just landed her dream job, gotten a lease on a new flat with her boyfriend thanks to the vast increase in pay and today was her first international flight. She’d have a week in New York before she had to return and that meant shopping. Lots and lots of shopping. Things couldn’t be better.

At first Ana had wondered if this was a joke. The job specification hadn’t sounded particularly strenuous, although she knew first hand that long haul was tiring especially if she was going to be the only flight assistant aboard. It wasn’t a small plane, a Falcon 900EX, beautifully appointed with black leather and walnut interior. It was equipped for fewer people than normal having only three seats and one banquette with could be converted into a double bed. The rest of the plane was devoted to a bar/food service area and, most unusually, a bathroom with a shower. Her job, of course, was simply to wait on the people aboard. This particular trip the service area had been stocked with premium vodka, charcuterie and black bread in addition to the usual beverages and snacks.

Ana did her final walk through and checked everything was spotless. She had yet to see a passenger manifest, although three bags had already arrived to be placed into the baggage compartment. Ana had looked at them with interest. Unlike most high profile customers, they were all bags. Two were deep tan leather, one considerable newer looking than the other, and one in faded green canvas and trimmed in dark brown. The two leather ones both bore a Vuitton stamp, but the older one was unlike any Vuitton luggage she’d ever seen, shaped like a Gladstone with hefty straps. The canvas one had no identifying marks on it at all. She was used to the need for confidentiality and the non-disclosure agreement she had signed had been really stringent, even by luxury private travel standards. But to be honest she was yet to encounter anyone famous. Most of the airline’s clients had been business people.

‘Are you ready?’ Ana looked up to see Kemal, the senior pilot, coming into the cabin. He gave her a broad smile and she smiled back. He was a lovely man, and had made her first month on the job a very pleasant one.

‘I think so.’ She replied. ‘Are the passengers here? I haven’t seen the manifest yet.’

‘No manifest today.’ Kemal replied. ‘The owner’s flying.’ Ana frowned.

‘Oh.’ she said. ‘I wasn’t aware of that.’ Kemal grinned.

‘None of us ever are.’ he replied. ‘He never gives us any notice.’ He looked at her and Ana blinked in surprise as his brown eyes flashed over green for a second. ‘Relax, it’s just like any other flight.’ He left her standing and wondering what she had just seen. She watched him go into the cockpit and sit down. A moment later she heard the second pilot, Raina, come in. Like Kemal, Raina was lovely. Ana had been quite surprised to discover they were actually a couple. They were very professional on the job.

‘Hi.’ she said with a broad grin, her dark eyes sparkling. Ana was sure she’d never met such a cheerful person in her life. ‘You good to go?’

‘Yes.’ Ana said and then peered past her. ‘Kemal said the owner is flying.’ She could hear Kemal running through his start up checklist. ‘Are they here?’

‘No.’ Raina said. ‘We’re picking them up.’

‘From where?’ Ana asked, even more confused than before. ‘I thought we were flying to New York.’

‘Oh, we are.’ Raina said. ‘Just the other way.’

‘What?’ Ana said but Raina just gave her a mysterious smile and went to join Kemal in the cockpit. Ana realised she was going to get no answers do she closed the door and got ready for take-off. They took off and headed due south. Ana had flown enough domestic flights to realise they were heading for Europe.

‘Best settle in, Ana.’ Raina’s voice came over the comms system. ‘We have a good ten hours until we refuel.’

‘Ten hours?’ Ana asked, but the cockpit door was now closed and they obviously couldn’t hear her.

**********

In the cockpit, Kemal looked at his Other.

‘Why did they hire a human?’ he asked, shaking his head.

‘She’s a nice girl.’ Raina replied, checking her instruments in spite of the fact that she didn’t need to. She heaved a sigh. ‘Where are we picking them up?’

‘Bee said they are about forty clicks outside of Urgamal.’ Kemal replied. He looked at her. ‘They got it.’

‘Really?’ Raina didn’t try to hide her shock. ‘They actually pulled it off.’

‘Yeah, but let’s just say they need to get out of there pretty quickly. Gemma may have caused some damage.’ Kemal was grinning.

‘How much damage?’ Raina asked, one elegant black eyebrow raised. Kemal didn’t answer, just gave her a grin. ‘Fuck.’

‘Apparently Anders is not happy.’ Kemal was laughing now. ‘But he got the spell so that should put a smile on his face even if she did manage to destroy half a sacred city.’

‘One step closer.’ Raina said, and her face became serious. ‘I don’t know how he’s stood it for this long.’ She sighed and leaned over to put her hand on Kemal’s arm. ‘I don’t know if I would be strong enough.’ Kemal looked at her, lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles.

‘Neither do I.’ he replied.

*********

Ana woke with a start as the plane dropped suddenly. She had sat down in one of the passenger chairs and unexpectedly dropped off.

‘Shit.’ she said as she felt the plane level out, sitting up straight. The comms pinged.

‘Sorry.’ Kemal said. ‘We hit an air pocket here. These damn desert thermals.’

That too a moment to sink in and then Ana was on her feet and peering out the window. Her eyes widened as she took in the expanse of white and brown below her.

‘What the fuck…?’ she said but even as she spoke the words to herself, another ping came from the comms.

‘Best you strap in back there.’ Raina said. ‘We’re about to land.’

‘Land?’ Ana was aghast. ‘What???’ She was about to get up when there was another fierce jolt and this time it felt like the plane had dropped about a hundred feet. She grabbed the seatbelt and fastened it. As she did, something really odd occurred to her. They had not stopped to refuel, at least not to her knowledge. And she certainly didn’t feel like she’d been sleeping for over ten hours.

The plane started to descend and it was far faster than Ana had ever experienced. She dug her fingers into the arms of the seat, convinced something awful was going to happen when suddenly they levelled out and touched down not three minutes later with barely a bump.

Ana could barely breathe. Then her training kicked in and she unfastened the seat belt and stood up, smoothing her skirt once more and taking several deep breaths. She felt the plane taxi to a stop and then went to the door. She might have just landed in the middle of a desert God knows where, but she was damned if she was going to be unprofessional about it. She got to the door and ran through the procedure to open it. It lowered, supported on its hydraulic struts and she looked outside. What she saw amazed her.

They had landed on what appeared to be a perfectly flat stretch of sand that was so light it was almost white.

Ana stared stupidly at it, then raise one hand to shield her eyes from the sun. This was without a doubt the most bizarre thing that she had ever experienced. Then she heard the sound of a vehicle and looked towards the horizon. It was a truck, a monstrous thing on large wheels that was tearing up the desert sand as it drove rather haphazardly towards the plane. Then Ana noticed that it was being pursued by a line of smaller vehicles, although they were still far enough away for her to not see what kind of vehicles they were.

There was a sound that made her think of firecrackers.

The truck drew close enough to slow and three figures more or less fell off the back. The truck swerved, picking up speed. It sped past the plane and continued. The three figures that had jumped off the back were running hell for leather towards the plane and Ana barely had time to throw herself to one side as they flung themselves into the plane.

‘GO!’ the tallest one shouted. He was wearing a headscarf, white and blue, desert style and his voice was muffled by it. ‘FUCKING GO!’ He turned and deftly operated the door. Ana could only watch as the door started to come up and the suddenly realised the engines were revving up. The last thing she saw as the door closed was that the vehicles in the distance were getting closer.

She turned back and saw that the three figures were not only all wearing headscarves that made them look like some kind of mercenary army, but that they were filthy. They were covered in soft white dust and then she clocked the weapons. The tallest one, the man who had spoken, had something that looked suspiciously like an AK47 strapped across his chest. She was busy gawping at it when the shortest figure reached up and took off their headscarf.

To Ana’s complete surprise, it was a woman. She was somewhere in her thirties to judge by her looks, and here pale skin was smeared with dust and sweat. It bled into her hairline, colouring her bright copper hair which was tied in a knot at the base of her skull. Her brown eyes were flashing angrily. She balled up the head scarf and used it to wipe the sweat from her face.

The other two followed suit and Ana saw that they were both men, one blond and one dark. They had a decent amount of beard growth that spoke of at least a few weeks without access to a razor.

‘Hey.’ Kemal’s voice came over the comms. ‘Our company is catching up. Sit your arses down so we can take the fuck off.’

‘Fuck.’ The woman said. She moved to one of the pairs of seats and sat. The men followed suit. They all looked pointedly at Ana. She went and sat down as well, feeling the jet start to accelerate. As she fastened her seat belt she looked at the three passengers and remembered Kemal’s words. Then she looked at the AK lying on the table between the dark haired man and the woman.

‘Oh God.’ she said, staring at the weapon. She looked up and for the first time realised that the blond man and the woman had what looked like swords strapped to their backs. She couldn’t keep the shock off her face and then the jet was hitting the speed it needed for take-off and lifting off the ground into the air.

When Ana finished having her tiny freak out she found the three of them looking at her intently.

‘Anders.’ the woman said.

‘I know.’ The blond man replied. He reached across the table between them and took Ana’s hand. She looked at him, her brain whirring with questions. He got there first.

‘What is your name?’ he asked and there was a deep resonating quality to his voice that stuck in her head.

‘Ana.’ she found herself replying, in spite of the fact that her brain was screaming that telling three armed strangers that had just jumped on her plane was probably not a very clever move. The man smiled at her, and she found herself thinking that he was remarkably attractive in spite of the dirt and the clothes that had obviously been worn for quite some time. His eyes were bright blue, almost aquamarine, and there was the most charming pair of dimples hovering at the corners of his mouth. His face was covered in a red gold beard.

‘Ana.’ he said and she gasped as his voice rang in her head and his eyes faded from blue to gold, glowing like flame on the inside. ‘Ana…’

For a moment she tried to fight and failed, and then she lost hold of it and fell asleep. She didn’t see all three of the newly acquired passengers watch her carefully, only relaxing when she started to snore softly.

Anders sighed and sat back in his chair.

‘Okay.’ he said. ‘Who hired the human?’

‘Well, you’re the boss. Surely you should have vetoed this.’ Gemma’s voice was sharp and Anders winced on the inside.

One thing he’d learned in a year was that when Gemma spoke to him in that tone, it wasn’t good. He locked eyes briefly with Kyle. Kyle gave him a return look that managed to combine sympathy that Anders was about to get his balls handed to him on a plate and smugness that Gemma’s ire was not directed at him.

‘I actually think it’s a good idea.’ he said. ‘She can be influenced far more easily than one of us. And the fact that she’s not a supernatural means we can keep her on with no fear of her getting involved or passing our movements on to the Council.’ He looked at Gemma. ‘And quite frankly at this point, I’d rather be dealing with something we can contain.’ Gemma looked at Anders and he let out a sigh as he saw her turning things over in her head and then coming to the conclusion that Kyle was right.

‘All right.’ she said. ‘When he get a little closer to Shanghai, you can wake her up and put some sort of story in her head.’ She let her head fall back. ‘Fuck, this day is just getting better and better.’

‘We got what we went for.’ Anders said. ‘And we would have gotten away without a problem if you hadn’t decided to take out half the fucking place.’ Gemma glared at him and he held up his hands. ‘Just pointing that out.’

Gemma looked at Kyle, who was very unsuccessfully hiding his smile behind his hand. She snorted and undid her seatbelt. The jet had levelled out and she stood up and gave them both a look that said they were in serious trouble.

‘Fine.’ she retorted. ‘Next time you two idiots can get us out of it. Can I juts point out that being chased by a Mongolian Death Worm calls for desperate measures.’ She shrugged out of the shoulder harness that held her claymore and chucked it at Kyle who had to think fast to catch it. ‘I am going to get cleaned up. You two need to tell Kemal and Raina about the change of plans.’ She left them, walking towards the back of the cabin. She went into the washroom and closed the door.  
Kyle blew out the breath he’d been holding. He met Anders’ eyes and they managed to keep a straight face for all of three minutes. Then they burst out laughing. It was almost bordering on hysterical, but they calmed down after a few minutes.

‘Fuck.’ Anders said. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck. We are not fucking doing that again.’ He looked back at the closed washroom door. ‘She’s fucking ridiculous.’

‘I know.’ Kyle’s pride was written all over his face. ‘And her control’s so on target. I can’t believe how far she’s come.’

‘Christ.’ Anders said in mock disgust. ‘You’re doing the face again.’ Kyle grinned.

‘I’m going to go have a word with our pilots.’ he said, and undid his seatbelt. He got up and stretched, shedding a cloud of white dust, and went to the front of the plane. That left Anders alone with the flight assistant. He looked her over. She was young, maybe early twenties and very pretty. Once upon a time, that had been just his type. Not anymore. Not since he’d woken up in a room with a moody Irish vampire who’d knocked him so hard off his feet, Anders was still recovering.

  
‘John.’ The word slipped out, so softly Anders barely heard himself say it. As usual the tiny flicker of darkness in the back of his mind did not respond, although it's constant presence never failed to soothe him.

He sat back in the chair and pondered the events of the last three weeks. They had gone in on the Trans Siberian, Gemma’s knowledge of what used to be her old stomping ground coming in very handy. Then it had been a week long trek using trucks, horses and their own feet to get to the place they needed to be. And then it had all gone to hell. Up until the point it came exploding out of the desert sand as they ran from the city, he’d thought Mongolian Death Worms were a myth. Granted in the last year he’d seen so many things and learned that almost anything that could exist in nightmares and fairy tales did exist. Even so, the worm had come as a surprise, and not a particularly pleasant one.

Anders reached into his pocket and took out a grubby piece of faded red cloth. He placed it on the table in front of him and flicked the folded cloth open. It didn’t look like much. It was a simple seal, crafted from a dull coloured stone and with a cabochon crystal set in the handle. But it was what it was capable of that made it so highly sought after. And so well protected.

And now he had it in his possession. He was one step closer to getting the thing he desired above all others.

He was one step closer to getting Mitchell back.


	2. The Night Desert

Jinta and Orrik stood and watched from the top of the kopje that overlooked the black desert sand. They were a bonded pair, pledged to each other ever since they had come of age as was the way of their tribe. 

Orrik looked at his mate. Jinta was exquisite to his eyes, even after forty cycles. Her coal black skin gleamed in the half light of their midnight world and allowed her to blend effortlessly into the shadows. Her thick black hair was silky and perfectly straight, hanging in a braid that signified her position as a tribal elder to her waist. When she looked at him, only the light reflecting off her eyes gave her position away. In a time of peace she would be his protector, the one who hunted and brought home food for him and their young. But in this time of war and resistance she was forced to roam the sands, keeping him in tow to protect him. It had made him into a warrior, like her. He stood proudly by her side now, the bearer of her young and her lieutenant with their daughter asleep in her papoose on his back. 

‘He is late.’ Jinta said. She lifted her head, scenting the air. ‘They are coming.’ She looked back at Orrik. ‘Go down and tell the others that they will be here soon.’ He nodded and headed down the rocks.

Jinta peered into the distance. Her senses were well attuned to the desert. She was a hunter, and a warrior in her tribe. And yet she was still surprised by the figure that emerged soundlessly from the deep shadow cast by the pinnace she was standing under. She turned and looked at the new arrival and nodded in acknowledgement. 

‘My Lord.’ she said and the man who had stepped out of the darkness grimaced.

‘I wish you wouldn’t call me that.’ he said, coming to stand next to her. 

‘Would you prefer Your Majesty?’ she asked, giving him a sidelong grin. Even her teeth were black. ‘I do believe it’s your actual title.’

‘Bollocks to that.’ he replied and looked down onto the bare sand below. ‘I’m sorry I’m late.’ A larger shape emerged from the darkness and came to stand next to them. This one was on four legs. 

‘You were no doubt taking Zak back to Marush.’ Jinta said, still smiling. 

‘The little bugger is worse than you are for keeping tabs on where I’m going.’ the man known as John Mitchell said. ‘And I have to threaten to keep him and Anubis separate to just get him to listen to me.’ He took a deep breath. ‘How long?’

‘At the speed they are travelling they will be here within…’ She frowned as she calculated the time into something he could understand. ‘Just under a quarter of an hour for you.’ Even after all his time in the Shadow Realm, there were certain things Mitchell had not been able to grasp. Time moved differently here to what it did back in his world. He honestly had no idea exactly how long he’d been here in this strange world that he’d somehow become heir to. He had learned a lot through. Had learned how the land he was the very unwilling ruler of was divided into sectors that fell under the jurisdiction of the tribes that inhabited this land. 

Martin had left the people loyal to the Council in charge. He had a court of vampires and demons and others that ruled the land with an iron fist, and which had persisted for centuries of time, as long as he had been a creature of the Council in their other world. The Court was cruel and ruthless, subjugating the people that they shared the Realm with, using them as food and entertainment and labour. They came to the desert, to the forests and the plains and captured the people who lived there, hunted them like animals to be returned to the City, a vast placed of black stone, where the Court ruled absolutely. Just like the caravan that was headed their way now. It was a slave transport, young women and men who would be put to use in the pleasure dens or gladiatorial pits of the City. 

Mitchell had never once believed that he would be happy again, not being separated from Anders the way he was. But he had found a cause, found something that could keep him sane. He’d discovered that his meeting Marush was not an accident. The woman was a seer, a powerful one. She’d told him that she’d known something of great import was coming, had known where to be when he came crashing through into the Realm with Anubis following closely behind him. She’d taken him in, given him work and a place to live and got his head back on straight when he was in those first few terrible weeks, nothing but a broken mess who was too lost in his grief at losing his Other to be of any help or use to anyone.

Marush had taught him about who he now was, a king in exile with a kingdom that had fallen to corruption and oppression. She’d shown him what had happened to the Realm in the absence of a Shadow King, shown him how the Resistance fought against the Court. She had taught him to understand his responsibilities and to control and exercise his powers. The John Mitchell that had arrived so long ago was not the same John Mitchell that existed now. Without Marush, there wouldn’t have been any John Mitchell left at all.’

‘Eiish.’ Jinta’s hissed warning caught Mitchell’s attention. He focused on where she was pointing. His night vision was now superlative, and he saw in the dark as easily as he might have seen in the light, in fact probably better. ‘They are here.’

Mitchell reached for the weapon slung across his back and knelt so he was in firing position. It was a projectile type weapon, a more advanced version of the sniper rifle Kyle had trained him on and able to be used as a fighting staf as well. He had been rather surprised to discover that there was technology in this place, had expected to be some sort of supernatural dimension. Instead he’d discovered it was a world every bit as tangible and complex as his own. But alongside it lived magic and things that Mitchell hadn’t been able to even imagine.

He steadied the energy staff and sighted along the edge of the rock he was standing behind it. The caravan was vast. It reminded Mitchell of the road trains he’d seen in a documentary about mining in Australia. The main difference though was that the drivers sat atop the engine, which was very lucky for Mitchell. It only took him a moment to focus, to simply stop breathing so when he took the shot, his hands were perfectly steady. 

The front of the caravan’s engine exploded in a shower of white sparks. The front car swerved wildly and the drivers braked hard. It jack-knifed and slid across the desert floor, the screech of metal under strain loud in their ears. Mitchell jumped to his feet, slinging the weapon back across his body and turned to Anubis. The hell-hound was already crouched and Mitchell leaped on his back, taking a handful of thick ruff to steady himself. He held out a hand and Jitka grabbed it, jumping up behind him. Then Anubis took off, galloping down the side of the rock formation to the ground below. He loped along, his powerful body eating up the distance between them and the still moving vehicle. They hit the desert floor, Anubis’ paws kicking up the sand as he ran towards the caravan. He wheeled and Mitchell jumped from his back, hitting the ground and standing to face the oncoming wreck. 

He waited, watching the caravan slowly grind to a halt, then raised one hand. Purple flames burst into life around it and Mitchell smiled as he released the power inside him. He had learned to manipulate the fire, to use it to not only burn but to deliver a strike of extreme force. He could also absorb power through it, use that to make it stronger. That’s what he did now. It rose up in front of him like a barrier, and Mitchell felt the strength of the caravan’s momentum. He let it come, absorbing the force it brought with it, like the desert earth absorbing water. 

The caravan ground to a halt only a few feet from him. It stopped, the dust settling. In the river’s cab atop the man section, four men looked down at him and then leaped from their post to the ground. 

Vampires.

Mitchell could smell them. The stink of blood was strong on them, indicating they had fed recently, probably from the stock they were holding. He waited until they were all standing facing him, and then he smiled and shifted before he struck.

They fought back, but he was deadly now. He had learned to use his vampire strength and magic in combination to be as strong and capable as any of Jinta’s warriors. She herself had schooled him in the use of the johbari staff he held, using his own magic to fuel the bio-energy it used to disable the vampires. The first attempted to side step him, but Mitchell circled the staff around him once and caught the vampire in the side of the head, then reversed the action catch the one that had moved behind him, releasing a burst of energy that crackled like electricity. It hit the vampire in the chest, igniting him from the inside out and he fell to his screaming as it burnt him until he started to crumble into soft grey dust. Even as he moved again, Mitchell felt the air shift and ducked the swing of the third’s own energy staff, coming up to block it and then send another energy blast at the vampire standing to his left, letting the purple fire fly from his hand to the one on the right. 

When Jinta had circled back on Anubis, the four vampire guards were nothing but ash, already bowing away in the desert thermals. She jumped from his back and together she and Mitchell headed for the first of the cars. These caravans were full of valuable goods and were heavily guarded. This one was no exception. 

As they got to the car, the doors slid open and four more guards jumped down. Jinta hissed defiantly, swinging her own staff into position. Unlike Mitchell, her staff was powered by actual electricity. It was she who had modified his to work off the bioelectric force he manufactured as part of his dark magic. Mitchell had never done science at school or paid any attention to it other than trying to look like he’d understood when Kyle and Gemma had explained it to him, and Jinta's skills never failed to impress him. 

Jinta moved so she was in front of Mitchell, a sign of deference. In times past her kind would have been his royal guard, but that had changed with Martin allowing the vampires to be in control. But even hell had its social strata and now they were relegated to being exiles in their own lands. 

‘Now hear me!’ Jinta called. All the way own the caravan, doors were opening and guards getting out. Her voice carried like a battlehorn in the still desert air. ‘I am here as Guardian of the true King of these lands! If you surrender now, we shall spare your miserable skins! If not, we shall leave none of you alive!’ 

The vampire guard at the front scoffed. His helmet bore the insignia of the Royal Court. He was obviously in charge, if his arrogant bearing was anything to go by.

‘True King.’ he snorted. ‘The true King is the one who rules the Court. The one left to keep order and ensure that you animals do not destroy this land.’ He gave Jinta and Mitchell a look that said he was not backing down anytime soon. ‘This is a royal transport. You have no idea how much pain you will be in for when he defeat you and take you in. If you are lucky you will end up in the pleasure pits.’ 

Jinta gave Mitchell a sidelong smile. She lifted her hand. On cue, the guard’s chest exploded as a silver projectile from Orrick’s projectile weapon hit him in the chest. The other guards watched him topple over, his body exploding into dust as he hit the ground. 

‘You are surrounded.’ Jinta shouted. ‘My people are everywhere. Surrender and you will not be harmed.’

They chose to fight.

In the end there were none left, all turned to ash by the shots fired from the rocks. And when the fire died down, Jinta’s tribe came down and freed the captured slaves from the transport. Mitchell watched as they were released from their chains.

They were all so young, barely into their teens, and destined for a life of pain and humiliation and abuse. He knew all too well what his kind were capable of, even in the human world. In this one, where there were no laws to protect their food, the vampires used them for whatever whim might take them. The pretty ones, boys and girls both, would become whores. They would spend their days chained to a bed, waiting for a vampire to come fuck them and feed off them until they died from overuse. Those that were considered strong yet uncomely would be taken to the gladiator schools to provide blood sport for the Court’s entertainment. It was a quicker death for many, but a far kinder life. In this world, people begged to be ugly. 

‘We shall take them into the North Caves.’ Jinta said. ‘There are enough supplies there to keep them hidden until we can find safe passage for them to the Outer Isles.’ She sighed. ‘So many.’

‘They are taking twice as many because they are losing twice as many.’ Orrik said. He placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘But as long as they enslave, we shall free.’

‘And one day we shall put the rightful King on the throne.’ Jinta said, looking at Mitchell. ‘And we shall have balance in the Shadow Realm once more.’ 

‘As Light to Dark. In service to Our Dark Lord.’ Orrik said the ritual words and bowed his head to Mitchell. Mitchell sighed.

‘I really really wish you lot would stop calling me that.’ he said.

He did not return with them to the North Caves. Instead Mitchell waited for them to leave. Then he stood and poured all his rage into his magic, using it to incinerate the transport until it was nothing but a burnt out shell. Anubis sat by his side, the arcane firelight reflected in their eyes, black and shiny. 

He spent very little time in his human form anymore.

After he was done, he and Anubis retreated to where the shadows were cast by the rocks and melted into them. 

************

Marush stirred the cooking and then tilted her head as she heard movement outside. She smiled to herself, not turning to see Mitchell come into the dwelling. She waited until he was seated before she reached for a horn cup and poured him a glass of the strong cactus wine they brewed form the hardy plants that grew thickly over the rocks the settlement was built into. Then she turned and set it on the table in front of him. Mitchell took it and drank it down, and she waited patiently and then refilled it.

‘A good night?’ she asked and he hummed agreement. 

‘Jinta and Orrik are taking them north.’ he said. 

‘Good.’ Marush replied. ‘They will be safe there.’ She looked past him. ‘Where is Anubis?’

‘Looking for Zak.’ Mitchell said. He ran one hand through his hair and let himself shift back into his human form. Marush’s house was the only place he felt entirely comfortable being like this. 

‘You hungry?’ Marush asked. Mitchell sighed. 

‘Yes.’ he replied. ‘But if it’s desert rat, I think I’ll pass.’

‘An entire cycle has passed and you still don’t like it.’ Marush snorted. ‘It is hrush.’

‘That’s hardly better.’ Mitchell said, but he accepted the bowl of this paste made from the same cactus like plant the wine had been distilled from. It wasn’t exciting, tasting a lot like polenta, but it was filling and hot. Mitchell ate steadily, feeling a desperate longing for something, anything from home. He missed so many things – tea, biscuits and most of all a short, stroppy blond New Zealander. He wondered what Anders was doing at that moment, just as he did a hundred times a day. Marush watched him over a spoon of her own hrush.

‘It has been a long time, John Mitchell.’ She said. ‘A long time to be without him.’ She ate the food and chewed meditatively. 

‘I miss him.’ Mitchell admitted. ‘But lately it has been getting worse. Like a pain in my chest.’ 

‘He looks for you.’ Marush said. ‘Even as we speak, he looks.’

Mitchell didn’t ask her how she knew. Marush was a seer of extraordinary talent. She could tell things just by looking at a person. 

‘The question is, will he find me?’ he asked and when Marush said nothing, Mitchell looked at her. Her black eyes were fixed on him. 

‘Sooner than you know.’ she replied. Mitchell frowned.

‘Not even you can know that.’ he said. ‘I know how hard it will be to come through the Seven Gates.’ He toyed with his food. ‘And I am not strong enough yet to go back by myself.’

‘No.’ Marush said. ‘You are not. If you had come with the Shadow King before the power was transferred, learned your craft here and come to understand the nature of the world you rule then you may have been ready.’ She got up and Mitchell watched her leave the room. He continued eating, an image of bright blond hair and dimples that wouldn’t quit dancing in his head. 

The sound of Marush scratching around for something in her room aroused his curiosity and eventually Mitchell got up and walked to the doorway. She was on her knees halfway under her bed. A triumphant noise came from underneath it and then she was back, a wooden box in her hands. 

‘Things are changing though.’ She said. ‘I have started to feel a shift.’ She got to her feet and sat on the edge of the bed, then beckoned to him. Mitchell went to sit beside her. 

‘What kind of things?’ he asked. Marush reached out and put her hand to his chest.

‘You say you feel his loss more greatly, that you have a pain here.’ she said. ‘I have felt things intensify. I know he looks for you because I feel the light inside you is beginning to strengthen. That's what brings the pain’ She withdrew her hand and opened the box. Inside were various trinkets. ‘You will not wrest control of the Shadow Realm by yourself. Even with the help of all the tribes, you cannot challenge the Court. You will need to realise your full power and to do that you will need your Other. You are strong now, Mitchell, so much stronger than you have been. But only with him will your destiny be secured.’ She dug through the things in the box and eventually came out with something. She took Mitchell’s hand, balancing the box on her lap, and dropped it into his palm. ‘But when you return you will need this.’

It was a ring. It was square and intricately wrought from white metal and set with a clear stone the colour of blood. Mitchell stared at it.

‘What is this?’ he asked.

‘It’s the Royal Ring of the Shadow King.’ Marush replied. ‘My grandmother’s grandmother stole it from the old Shadow King when he turned, kept it safe. We have always been in the service of the Shadow King, and this time is no different. I was keeping it until a more fortuitous time. However, I feel the change will come on like a sandstorm and we will have no time for ceremony.’ She closed his fingers over it. ‘Now, I have given it to you. In days past I would have crowned you in the chamber of black stone that sits in the Castle of the Royal Court. But this will have to do.’ 

‘Have I mentioned that I really have no interest in actually being a king? I’m sure I have.’ Mitchell said but he took the ring in his fingers. It was heavy and he felt a strange urge to put it on. Marush chuckled.

‘And yet you feel how it calls to you.’ she replied. ‘Just as you have learned to wield your dark magic as if born to it. Keep it safe Mitchell. You will need it.’

‘Because I will be going home soon?’ Mitchell couldn’t quite keep the excitement out of his voice. He had learned to hide his desire to return to Anders around the others, but Marush had always understood how hard it was to be without his Other, a pain that hadn’t killed him true, but which had gnawed away at him for an age. 

‘I would not want to get your hopes up.’ Marush’s voice was kind, gentle. ‘But I feel a change coming Mitchell. I only hope that it’s a good one.’


	3. Shanghai Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Keepers get to Shanghai.

Ana started as someone put their hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Raina standing next to her.

‘Are you going to serve those drinks or just look at them?’ she asked with a grin. Ana looked down at what she presumably had just been doing. There were three glasses in front of her on the service bar.

‘Oh.’ She said and then frowned. ‘I’ve totally spaced.’ She looked at Raina, who smiled.

‘Vodka tonic, and two Jack and Cokes.’ she said. ‘Better make them all doubles.’ Ana gave her a grateful smile and fixed the drinks then took them to the three people who were sitting in the cabin. She went to them and an odd feeling came over her. She hesitated, not quite sure who was having what when the dark haired man gave her a smile and reached for the two Jacks and handed one to the redhead sitting opposite him. Ana gave the last drink to the blond man.

‘Thank you, Ana.’ he said in a friendly, accented voice and she nodded and then retreated to the back of the cabin. She stole a surreptitious glance at her passengers, and a few things clicked in her head.

Of course. The blond man was Anders Johnson, the owner of the company she worked for. The redhead was Gemma Parker, his personal assistant and right hand woman and the dark haired man sitting opposite her was her husband Kyle, who worked as Anders’ personal bodyguard.

How had she forgotten?

She stood and watched them discreetly. Her eyes were drawn to the man who was rich enough to own his own Falcon. Anders Johnson wasn’t quite what she had expected. For one thing he was short, at least a half head shorter than her and compactly built. His thick blond hair was short and he wore a neatly trimmed beard to go with it. He was wearing a sober black suit, white shirt and a cerulean silk tie. Ana clocked the very high end wristwatch he was wearing, the gold cuff links that looked like antiques. He may have been new money (now where had she heard that?) but he dressed like old money. He was writing something in a notebook in front of him, but then he looked up and their eyes met for split second, enough for her to register the almost startlingly bright blue colour of them. It was a glance that was shrewd and amused all at once, but even underneath that Ana could see something else, a sadness. She looked away, blushing furiously at having been caught.

When she looked back it was to small smile, showing off a pair of shockingly deep dimples. Then he turned away and she breathed a sigh of relief. It wouldn’t do be caught staring at the boss like he was a zoo animal, no matter how attractive she thought he was.

***********

Anders understood the flight attendant’s confusion. He’d influenced her deeply, replacing her memories with those he wanted her to have. It was something he’d never been able to do as Bragi, but now he could not only influence but also imprint the minds of others with what he wanted them to think and remember. She would have no clue as to what she had witnessed earlier. As far as Ana was concerned, it had been a perfectly routine flight. She was feeling a little tired and looking forward to a well-deserved layover in Shanghai (a necessary deviation after what had happened in Mongolia) before they went on to New York.

He looked down at the notebook he was writing in, and brushed his fingers over the words. Bragi’s influence had not entirely abated, even as Anders’ powers had grown. He still felt the deep love of words circulating in his veins and chiming like golden bells in his mind. He’d filled so many books like this, stacking them on his desk in the Library, which had come as predicted to their new home safe and sound under Edinburgh Castle, hidden away in the dark. The others would see him writing and look at each other. Anders knew they were keen observers and could tell exactly what he write about, knew what every single book was full of.

Every word, every poem an ode to dark Irish eyes and a flash of a brilliant smile. Apples on his desk. Sex. Dark hair on the pillow next to him that smelt like a forest floor. Kisses. Half cups of cold tea. An even colder nose in the back of his neck accompanied by a low chuckle. Every single thing that he missed every fucking day. It was actually a little bit sickening. Anders couldn’t supress his smile at how Mitchell would take the piss out of him if he knew how he was engraved on Anders’ mind, every tic and nuance of how he moved and spoke and smelled and fucked as clear now as it had been the day he’d lost him.

‘You’re thinking about him again.’ Gemma said. It wasn’t a question. Anders looked at her. She’d changed out of her filthy clothes and was transformed from Keeper warrior to prim and proper PA. Her combat boots had been exchanged for elegant black suede heels, her jeans for a charcoal pencil skirt and her plaid flannel for a black cashmere polo-neck with the sleeves pushed up to reveal a pair of beautifully slender wrists, one adorned with a magnificent art deco diamond bracelet that matched the simple diamond studs in her ears. Her copper hair was brushed into a sleek ponytail, and her normally severe expression was softened by the application of actual make-up. Anders had been utterly taken aback the first time she’d assumed the guise of his assistant. He had suddenly realised that she was quite lovely, and that is was something that he was really seeing for the first time. He remembered Kyle grinning at him and that the smug look on his face had made Anders understand why he was so devoted to his Other. Gemma was so much more than what she presented to the world, and only Kyle ever got to see all of her.

Just like him and Mitchell.

‘And if I am?’ he asked, and she gave him that knowing smile of hers.

‘Soon.’ she said, and went back to the book she was reading. It was a 1734 volume titled **Beasts of Upper Mongolia** and he noticed that she was making notations in it with pencil.

‘Making corrections?’ he asked and she raised one eyebrow at him.

‘It pays to be accurate.’ she replied. Anders looked across at Kyle, who grinned at him. He was dressed all in black, the suit cut so that he had enough room for the twin pistols he wore in a shoulder holster. His shirt and tie were black and it gave him a severe look that made his blue-grey eyes stand out. His only adornment was a simple white gold band on his ring finger, a match to the one Gemma wore.

Anders knew the value of impressions. And when he turned up dressed the way he was with his two lieutenants in tow, people hadn’t failed to be impressed. It was one of the reasons he’d been as successful as he was.

It had been hard, taking on the mantle of Grand High Mage when he’d hadn’t got a clue where to begin. So Anders had gone back to what he’d been good at. He’d turned his businessman’s eye on what he’d been given and started to look at how he would play things. He’d always suspected that if he’d ever gotten the opportunity to really have go at making a success of things, he would have been able to. To not be hampered by his vices or his family.

And sitting there in the dark of their new refuge, Anders had made a decision. He could let himself fall apart without Mitchell, or he could give himself a bloody good kick in the arse and sort his life out.

He knew which one Mitchell would have wanted him to do.

He’d started with Terry. Anders had reasoned that an organisation with a history like the Keepers had money. He hadn’t been wrong. Not only that, but Terry hadn’t been lying when he’d said he was all the record keeper they needed. He knew where everything was, how much money they had, the obscure locations housing treasures and properties tucked away in far flung corners of the world.

Anders had taken those resources and made them work for him and for his Keepers. He turned what was something that languished in a time gone past and dragged it kicking and screaming into the twenty-first century. He’d used their holdings to trade and sell and buy and discovered that the business acumen that had made him a success after Bragi had departed was nothing compared to what he could accomplish with actual wealth and the power to persuade, not to mention having a built in lie detector. Yet another little gift from his benefactor.

They all played their part now. There were few of them left. The Council had been thorough. It hadn’t just been London, it had been everywhere. Keepers has been slaughtered in every refuge they had. Only those that had been in deep cover or so far removed from the normal pace of life had survived. Anders had discovered that he could feel them, and so he had called them in.

Gemma and Kyle had counselled him on the need for balance and how to respect the Rule of Three. Anders had minded their words and started to rebuild the teams. Three of Six, that was the Keeper way, the strongest combination. He had kept their team intact, not trusting anyone but the Keepers he had been trained under to be a fit for he and Mitchell. Anders harboured thoughts that that was one of the reasons for the decline of the Keepers, that Ian had held himself apart. He understood though. Betrayal by your Other must be the hardest thing to endure.

The others were divided up into another two teams. Dawn and Ty were growing in their powers every day under the watchful eye of Karl and Chris. They had been joined by Themba and Fatima, a pair of others who’d been in the Congo when all the shit had gone down. Themba was South African and Fatima was from Egypt. They had been Others for nearly seventy years and were extremely experienced field operatives. They had been part of the Africa HQ in Dar Es Salaam, which had been completely destroyed along with all their Keepers. The other team was headed by Victoria and Jonathan, and Kemal and Raina were part of it along with Jae-Li and Ayzhana, who had escaped the decimation of the Asian HQ. There had been further recruitment as well. Terry had come with them, and Anders had discovered that there were supernaturals everywhere who could fulfil the other functions they had need for. But for his immediate circle, Anders had stuck to the rules.

Seventeen Keepers. Three teams of Six.

One missing Shadow King.

Not for long though. Not if he had anything to say about it.

‘Not long now.’ Kemal’s voice came over the coms. Anders sighed and started to close his notebook. As he did the plastic card that he’d been using as a bookmark fell to the floor. He was about to reach for it, when Ana, who was on her way to start the clean-up for descent, got to it first. She smiled and looked at it quizzically, then handed it back to Anders.

‘You dropped this, Mr Johnson.’ she said and smiled at him.

‘Thank you, Ana.’ he replied as he took it from her, his thumb swiping over the face on the driver’s license before he stowed it away in the notebook. ‘I certainly wouldn’t want to lose him.’ Then he realised what he said. ‘I mean that I wouldn't want to lose it.’ She gave him a look that was almost a frown and then recovered herself, walking past him. Anders waited until she was past before he opened the notebook and stole another look at the features he knew as well as his own. He missed the look that passed between Gemma and Kyle, too caught up in looking at the picture on the driver’s licence. This and the one in the passport in his pocket, kept carefully next to his, were the only pictures he had of Mitchell and he never let them out of his sight. He’d kept all his things, packing them away carefully in their new bedroom far below the castle. He had filled a drawer with all of Mitchell’s appalling t-shirts, hung up his dazzling array of plaid shirts, lovingly folded every pair of jeans, balled up every pair of gloves. Mitchell’s aftershave still stood on the shelf in the bathroom, his razor next to it. Anubis’ dog bed was in the corner, his lead draped over the iron bedstead that Anders had managed to salvage from their old safe house, the first bed they had slept in together. The books Mitchell had given him for Christmas were on his side of their bed.

Their things in their home.

All it needed was Mitchell to come back to it.

‘Approach to Shanghai has been cleared.’ Raina’s voice this time. ‘Could you all please take your seats and fasten your seatbelts while we make out descent.’ There was shifting as Ana locked down the service area. She watched the passengers belt themselves in and then went into the cockpit to take her jump seat for the landing.

‘Raina.’ she asked. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Of course.’ Raina replied as she flicked switches and checked her instruments.

‘Mr Johnson.’ Ana said. ‘He dropped a bookmark. It was a driver’s licence. But it wasn’t his.’ Raina gave Kemal a look but they said nothing. ‘He looked at me oddly when I gave it back to him.’ She looked at Raina. ‘Who is the man on it?’

‘His partner.’ Kemal said, his voice matter of fact.

‘Is that who he’s going to see in Shanghai?’ Ana asked, making sure her seatbelt was secure.

‘No.’ Raina said. ‘He’s…’ she hesitated.

‘Mr Johnson lost his partner a year ago.’ Kemal said. He flicked a look at Raina.

‘Oh.’ Ana said. ‘That explains why he’s so sad.’

‘You picked up on that did you?’ Kemal asked.

‘It’s hard not to.’ Ana replied.

**********

The landing was perfectly smooth. Anders waited until they had come to a stop, unlike Gemma and Kyle who were up and about before the jet had even stopped moving. He was constantly amazed by Gemma’s unnatural ability to walk on a moving form of transport in four inch heels.

Kyle retrieved the bags from the baggage rack at the back. The weapons they had bought aboard would be left on the plane. There would be a stop in downtown Shanghai to pick up what they would need for the next part of their mission to get Mitchell back.

Anders stood up and went to the front coat rack by the cabin door. He took down the oversized black cashmere coat hanging up and held it out.

‘Mrs Parker.’ he said and Gemma gave him a half smile as she approached and stepped into it. She pulled it around her shoulders and retrieved a pair of black Wayfarers from one pocket, slipping them on and then walking past him to descend the now open staircase. Kyle got to him and handed Anders his bag. He took it and waited for Kyle to exit with the ones belonging to him and Gemma and then followed him. As he got to the exit he leaned into the cockpit.

‘Thank you.’ he said. ‘We should be three days at the most.’

‘You want us on standby?’ Raina asked. Her dark eyes were sharp. Anders considered.

‘No.’ he eventually replied. ‘If we don’t make this part, I doubt there will be anyone to take back.’

‘Good luck.’ Kemal said. Anders looked at them both, seeing the trepidation and concern for him in their faces.

His Keepers.

‘Thank you.’ he said. ‘I think we’re going to need it.’ He stepped away and walked to the exit. When he got to Ana he stopped.

‘Thank you for such exemplary service, Ana’ he said. ‘I hope to see you on the return trip.’ She gave him a dutiful nod, and Anders decided he quite liked her.

He descended from the jet and walked across the tarmac. There was a car waiting, and as he approached behind Gemma and Kyle, Anders saw two figures that made his heart lift. They waited for them to get to the car, also playing their parts.  
Gemma and Kyle bypassed them, getting into the vehicle in the front, Kyle taking his position as driver. When Anders got to the back he looked at them. Bee and Niemh were both wearing cheong-sams, deep scarlet for Bee and midnight blue for Niemh. Anders kissed them both on the cheek, and they gave them matching grins, although they had long since lost the cheeky spark that they had worn before their adoptive fathers had died.

‘You two been having fun?’ he asked once they were settled in the back.

‘He’s possibly the most odious being we’ve ever come across.’ Bee said, making a face.

‘Well, odious or not, we need him.’ Anders said. ‘Or more accurately, we need what he possesses.’

‘Kemal said you got it.’ Niemh said. ‘Do you think it will be enough to get his attention.’

‘Oh yes.’ Anders said, allowing himself to smile properly this time. ‘It most definitely will.’

They drove into Shanghai, and Anders watched the traffic through the tinted window and wondered how anyone managed to get anywhere. Bee and Niemh were talking a mile a minute to Kyle but Gemma was watching him thoughtfully in the rear view mirror.

[Are you ready for this?] she asked in Russian and Anders replied in the same.

[Why do you ask me questions you already know the answer to?] The girls stopped chattering briefly to look at them both and then carried on, knowing that it was best not to get involved.

[You need to be focused if we are going to pull this off.] Gemma said. [The shit in Mongolia is going to look like a fucking walk in the park compared to going up against Jiao-long] At the mention of the wizard’s name the other three did stop talking and looked at them.

‘I am focused, Gemma.’ Anders said in English. ‘You don’t need to worry about me.’

‘Good.’ she replied. ‘Because if we fuck this up, we’re all dead.’


	4. The Coming Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tribes mae a decision and things start to fall into place...

The long corridor of black stone was well known for assignations. There were many alcoves that one could stand in, hanging swathes of thick fabric that muffled noise and words. And there had been many whispers of late, so many that Calogero had started to listen. What he had heard had displeased him greatly. Now he strode down the corridor and the members of his court, both major and minor, quailed in his wake. His displeasure was to be feared.

To his right walked his daughter, Cassiopeia, and to his left his son Laithan. They were both true vampires, born of him and his concubines, and they were also his most trusted allies and lieutenants. Together the three of them had ruled the realm for longer than he could rightly recall. But now there were rumours, scurrilous and disturbing, that that would not be the case for much longer.

The Court guards drew open the massive wooden doors of the throne room as they approached, their heads bowed in deference. Calogero moved past them with not a single glance spared for their efforts, his chin up in defiance. He had not been challenged in over seven centuries and this new development rankled him. Inside the room sat his court, those he had hand-picked from the upper echelons of the vampires that held this vast city of black stone. They were loyal to a fault, or least professed to be. They watched as he ascended the dais at the end of the room and took his seat on the simple throne of black wood. He had never been a creature of extravagance, favouring spartan lines and simple robes. The only adornment he wore was the ring of the Regent, a band of black gold with a massive green stone set into it. In his most secret self, he’d long wished to find the ring of the King and wear instead, and remove all doubt from the people he ruled that he had the right to do so. But the ring had long since disappeared into history, lost when his maker had quit this world and left it in ruin for the better part of four hundred years.

It had up to him to restore what was once great. But even as he had, the people he’d decided were there to serve him had risen up and what had followed was centuries of war. He had crushed them ruthlessly until now the other inhabitants of this realm were nothing more than cattle and slaves to his whims. It was good. But now something was threatening to shake things up and change what he’d so carefully controlled for so long.

It had started with murmured talk of caravans that had been attacked, slaves that had been freed and spirited away. It had spread like wildfire, and with it had come fear and expectation for Calogero to address the threat. Because, make no mistake, it was most definitely a threat. Then the attacks had picked up in number and stories started to come through. Stories of a vampire that fought side by side with the demon tribes. A vampire that was said to have come through from the other side. And that was when the words took shape, when Calogero had started to recognise what was being said.

**_Shadow King._ **

At first he dismissed it as nothing more that the delusional whisperings of a people who needed something to cling to in their oppression. But then it grew in strength, and the stories turned into sightings. He sent out spies and doubled the guard on caravans. But still the tales came and the whisperings became murmurings and then a spy returned. He told Calogero of a man with pale skin and dark hair, a man whose eyes were black and shiny. He wore strange clothes and spoke in a manner that had never been heard before and alongside him ran a hell-hound of colossal strength and size.

For the first time since he’d become regent, Calogero regretted that decision he’d made to have all the seers put to death. He’d originally done it in a bid to remove any opposition based on the prophecies they had a tendency to spout, and while Martin had put stock in what they had said, he himself had not. However, even he needed to concede that he could have used at least a hint of what was happening.

He swept his robe aside and sat down, crossing his legs and resting his chin on one hand. Cassiopeia and Laithan came to stand at his shoulders. The gathered Court sat and watched him, and Calogero could feel the unrest simmering just under the surface. That more than anything had brought him to this resolution. It was time to strike.

He waited, letting the tension build. At last a man stood up. He was of minor nobility but he was also one of the most active when it came to protecting his assets, and a great deal of his wealth was sunk in the pleasure pits.

‘My Lord.’ he said, and Calogero narrowed his eyes at the barely concealed anger in the man’s voice. ‘I must be heard!’ Calogero saw Cassiopeia tense, her beautiful face shifting as she fought to control her temper. He raised a hand in placation and she stilled herself.

‘But of course.’ He replied. ‘You are all entitled to be heard.’

‘Last night.’ the man continued. ‘I had a caravan coming across the Eastern Desert. It was attacked and I lost over four hundred head of stock. This cannot continue!’

‘I lost over three hundred last week!’ This was from a woman who’d gotten to her feet at the back.

‘They are taking them from all trade routes. We have been losing money in amounts that cannot be sustained.’ the first man said. ‘If we continue to suffer this, there will be serious consequences.’

Calgero sighed into his hand. It had been the same for months now, the same stories of loss and anger. He listened as the two voices became three and then five and then eight, until the entire court was on its feet and demanding answers. He could feel Cassiopeia and Laithan struggling not to shift, not to show aggression. It wouldn’t be becoming for royalty to show such a loss of control.

Calegero drew himself up off his throne, his eyes shifting to black and his fangs descending quicker than sight.

‘Enough!’ he roared. The entire court fell silent in an instant, their collective look of shock making Calogero smile sardonically on the inside. They were really all just a bunch of pathetic spineless creatures. He shifted back and returned to his seat. ‘I am well aware of what has been happening. And rest assured we have taken steps to rectify the situation. Now unless anyone here feels that they have the capability to solve this problem better than the court does, I will ask you to indulge me a little further in this matter.’ He steepled his fingers. ‘Of course anyone that wishes to petition me in private is always welcome to consult with me at a mutually agreeable time.’ He smiled and it was cruel. ‘Perhaps this every night will be suitable.’ He didn’t need to say anything else. The deeply ingrained fear of reprisal was enough to have every single vampire in the Court sit back down and keep their mouths shut. ‘Now, shall we attend to more pressing business?’ He looked at Laithan who nodded and convened the meeting.

**********

The eastern desert was beautiful at night. Mitchell sat and looked at the horizon, where the barely registering shift of light was happening. Anubis was absent, mucking around with Zak in the rocks somewhere.

He took in a deep breath and wished for the millionth time that he had a cigarette. He missed smoking dreadfully. He also missed bacon sandwiches and biscuits and tea and Anders’ blood. Here he fed only when he needed to, and only from one of tribe who was willing to be paid for it. Feeding off Anders for as long as he did had done something to him. It was no longer a desperate need, and it never resulted in death. But it felt awful, and Mitchell treated it as a purely perfunctory act. But every time he did feed, he felt a terrible emptiness afterwards.

And that was before he even started thinking about other things. In truth he was immensely thankful that he was kept busy, that he didn’t have the time to think about Anders too often. If he did, especially when he was lying trying to sleep, then his dreams were filled with images flickering in and out of focus, the smell of Anders skin, the sound of his soft moans and of his not so soft cries. It was maddening. Vampires were long lived creatures, but Mitchell felt like it had been forever.

There was a noise behind him and he turned to see Orrick coming up. He and Jinta were back from escorting the freed slaves to the Northern Caves, a journey of about ten days. He came and sat next to Mitchell, his pale skin and thick white hair a sharp contrast with the dark rocks around him. He turned his strange eyes on Mitchell. Unlike Jinta, whose tribe was the same as Zak’s and who were black from head to toe, Orrik’s came from the cave system itself. His skin was almost translucent and his eyes were an oddly beautiful purple colour. Their daughter, Yenna, took after him and she was strapped to his chest. Mitchell had found it rather strange to discover that their tribe conferred the childrearing role onto the males, if that was what they could be called. Mitchell had trouble understanding it. That was until Jinta had spent a dinner at Marush’s dwelling explain the bords and the bees of their world to Mitchell.

‘It is quiet tonight.’ Orrik said, settling down next to him. ‘And yet, I feel uneasy.’

‘I know what you mean.’ Mitchell said. He’d been feeling unsettled all day. He leaned over and waved his fingers in front of Yenna’s face and she grabbed onto one of them, her little face scrunched up in concentration. Orrik chuckled and took her out of the harness she was in and handed her across to Mitchell. Mitchell took her happily, cradling the baby and thinking about how she was probably the same size as Fay was now. He felt a twinge at the thought.

‘Jinta thinks something is coming. She’s asked Marush to do a sitting.’ Orrik said, and then spat on the ground. Mitchell did the same, showing the proper respect for the seer.

‘She didn’t say anything about that.’ he mused. ‘But she has been a little out of sorts for the last couple of days.’ He sighed. ‘Does Jinta have any ideas?’ All the tribe’s females were a little magic sensitive.

‘It’s not good.’ Orrik replied. ‘We lost a few people on that last transfer. Jinta thinks they were spies.’

‘That’s not good.’ Mitchell said, a flicker of alarm going off. ‘Maybe we need to think about changing our tactics.’

‘Perhaps.’ Orrik said. He stretched his arms above his head and his neck popped alarmingly loudly. ‘Ai, this is you little one.’ He said this to Yenna who smiled her best smile at him, her baby teeth having just come in. Like her parents, her teeth were sharp and pointed. Mitchell held her up so she could reach for the dreads in her father’s beard, her chubby fists grabbing for the polished metals clasps on the ends. Orrik laughed and took her back. ‘My little warrior. One day you will sever heads.’ Mitchell laughed with him. He valued these quiet moments and had come to see Jinta and Orrik as an extension of the family he’d found with the Keepers. He certainly missed Anders the most, but he’d found that he also missed the others. In particular he missed being part of his Three.

There was a shrill whistle from down the hill and Orrik looked up. Even Yenna recognised it and started to burble. Mitchell got up when they did and followed Orrik down until they got to the shadows cast by the rocks. There was a glint of metal and Jinta stepped out of the shadows. Her face was serious.

‘Come.’ she said. ‘Marush wishes to talk to us.’ There was something in her voice, a disquiet that set Mitchell’s teeth on edge. Jinta reminded him a lot of Gemma. They both had that inner strength that meant they never backed down from a fight or showed fear. So her sounding this unsure was as clear a warning sign as if she’d said it aloud.

Marush’s dwelling was full. Mitchell saw that there were not just her and Jinta, but several other tribal leaders. Her table was covered in the loose bits of bone and shell and stone that she cast to make her prophecies. There was a gilt cup and Mitchell could smell there was blood in it. They were all talking in hushed tones but they stopped when Mitchell entered, Jinta and Orrik right behind him.

‘Mitchell.’ Marush said, her voice soft. ‘We need to talk.’

‘So Jinta said.’ Mitchell replied. He moved to the table, noting how the others moved away from him. It was strange, like it had been right at the beginning when he’d first arrived. It had taken a long time for the tribe to trust him. He sat at the chair that appeared. ‘You have done a seeing?’

‘I have.’ Marush said. ‘But I need something.’ She waved her hand at the cup. ‘You must drink.’ Mitchell frowned.

‘Whose is it?’ he asked.

‘Mine.’ she replied. That took Mitchell aback. He had never drunk from Marush, knew that to do so would be sacrilegious. His curiosity won out.

‘Why?’ he asked.

‘Please.’ Marush said. ‘I will explain after.’ Mitchell frowned. He knew he could trust Marush though and reluctantly he picked up the cup. Her blood had an oddly fruity smell. He forced his reservations to the back of his mind and drank. The blood tasted similar to the way it smelt, and he drank all of it before slamming the cup to the table. It felt like he’d just drunk the brandy his grandfather had kept for medicinal purposes. It burned all the way down and made his head spin. The power in it was heady, not dissimilar to Anders, but nowhere near as fulfilling.

He sat back and then Marush held out her hand. Confused, Mitchell looked at t and then slowly extended his to her. Marush grabbed it, moving far more quickly than anyone would have given her credit for, her voice chanting in a low rhythm. There was the flash of a blade and Mitchell stared at his forearm where she had cut him.

‘Bloody hell, Marush!’ he swore, but she kept hold of him, turning his arm over so that his blood dripped onto the table, splashing the objects already there. Mitchell looked at them, and then his eyes widened as they started to move by themselves. ‘What the fuck…’ he stared as they arranged themselves ino a complicated pattern.

‘Ai!’ Jinta said. She was standing behind him, watching over his shoulder. Marush looked up at her.

‘You can see.’ she said. ‘You can see what will come.’

‘It is not very clear.’ Jinta said. Her face was troubled. ‘But there is change coming.’

‘And it will be catastrophic.’ Marush said. He was looking at Mitchell, her black eyes fixed on him. ‘For many of us. We must strike before it can come to pass.’ She let Mitchell go and he instinctively licked the wound on his arm, his own blood leaving a metallic tingle on his tongue.

‘So what do we do?’ he asked. Marush sat up straight, her chin lifting defiantly.

‘We fight.’ she replied.

***********

Calogero walked from the throne room, on his way to his private apartments. Cassiopeia followed him. Her boots clicked on the stone floor, their staccato rhythm irritating him.

‘Father.’ She said, her voice low and insistent. ‘You must listen…’ She stopped short when he turned on her.

‘The only thing I must do is question why there is still no solution to a problem you assured me would be dealt with.’ he snarled and she stepped back, her pale blue eyes showing the slightest bit if fear.

‘I am dealing with it.’ she protested. ‘I have doubled the guard on all caravans, offered rewards for information and indeed for this imposter’s head.’

‘And for all your efforts, I have a Court which is threatening to revolt, and a population who are undermining my rule and talking about the coming of a new Shadow King.’ Calogero said, his voice like ice.

They got to the doors of his private apartments and Calogero stalked in. Cassiopeia fell back and he didn’t bother to dismiss her, simply waved his hand so the doors slammed in her face. He sighed deeply and walked to the middle of the room. The fire that burned in the grate had died down and he made a note to punish whoever had been responsible for it that evening.

He removed his outer robe and walked across the thick carpets to the doors of his bed chamber. The smell of food made him sniff appreciatively. Inside there was a massive four poster bed carved from black wood. It was dressed with rich crimson silk hangings and snowy white sheets. There were two demon slaves shackled to the posts at the foot of the bed, one boy and one girl. They were huddled together, their eyes shiny with tears. It was that which Calogero had scented. He smiled and started to disrobe. Then a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye made him turn.

A vampire came out of the shadows. Calogero frowned. While he had been expecting the spy to return he had not expected it so soon.

‘Viktor.’ he said. The spy inclined his head. ‘You have news.’

‘He’s not a myth.’ Viktor said. He had a cadaverous face, the skin pinched and thin. ‘The Shadow King has returned.’

‘That,’ Calogero said, ‘is not what I wished to hear.’ he picked up his robe and put it back on. 'Get Laithan. We go to war.'


	5. A Game of Mah Jong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders is in the creature's house. Now it is time to play the game.

The club did not have any signage to speak of. To a casual passer-by, it simply looked like a door in a back alley. That was if you could ignore the two doormen dressed in black and collectively wide enough to stop a truck at high speed. Its exclusivity was guaranteed by several things. Firstly, in order to even get a sniff at the guest list, a six figure income was required. Secondly, the chances of even knowing it existed were greatly minimised by the fact that one needed to be magical in order to cross over the threshold. Finally, anyone contravening rules one and two would invariably disappear and not in a good way. 

The car that pulled up at the alley way was sleek and black. It screamed money and the kind of quiet elegance valued by the upper echelons of Chinese society. The doormen watched as the passenger door opened and a man got out. He was solidly built, his discrete black suit, shirt and tie making him look a little threatening, but no so much as to be alarming. There was a glint of light of metal which the doormen knew signalled a pistol hidden under his perfectly cut jacket. He was followed by a woman, petite and immaculately dressed in black as well, knee high boots laced up the front, skin tight pants and a cheongsam style top in matt black velvet. Her long copper hair was pinned up in traditional Chinese style and held in place with two jade hair pins. She bore no weapons of any discernible type, carrying only a sleek black metal briefcase, but the doormen could feel the flickerings of magical energy about her. She strode forward to them, arrogance and authority written in every movement. Behind her the man in black went to the rear door of the car and opened it. 

That was when the doormen felt the real power. 

The first two people to emerge were women, young and beautiful and wearing western style evening dress. The brunette was in crimson silk and the blonde was in silver. Their skirts were short, revealing two pairs of legs that made the doormen stare. They wriggled and giggled and tugged their dresses down and their obvious youth contrasted sharply with the man who came out after them. He was not what the doormen would have expected, short and blond and affable looking. But his suit, also black and paired with a snowy white shirt and duck egg blue silk tie, was elegantly cut. Not only that, but he carried himself with perfect self-confidence. 

The red-haired woman had reached them and the doormen drew themselves up to their full height. They were yuo guai, Chinese shapeshifting demons valued for the loyalty to their master and their superior physical strength and invulnerability. But there was something about the tiny woman in front of them that made them uneasy. 

She stopped in front of them and turned to the side. The blond man was just behind her and he reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a card which he handed to her. She presented it to the doorman on the left and he took it, sniffing it carefully. To any human it would look like a simple invitation, embossed ivory card with a heavy luxurious grain. To him, it smelled right. He nodded to his colleague and they stepped aside, the one on the right opened the door. The woman walked in ahead of the trio, with the blond man’s bodyguard bringing up the rear. 

The doorman waited until they were all inside and then closed the door behind them. 

**********

Inside the corridor was filled with red light. The walls were black and the whole effect was like a descent into hell. Anders looked at the door that was just ahead of them. 

‘Time to go to work.’ he said, blinking once so his eyes went from blue to gold. 

‘Just remember not to oversell it.’ Bee said, still tugging at her dress and wobbling slightly on her six inch heels. ‘How the fuck do people walk in these stupid things.’ 

‘Badly.’ Niemh snickered. She was doing only slightly better. ‘Let’s hope we don’t have to run for it.’

‘You ready?’ Gemma’s voice was perfectly calm, but Anders knew from experience that meant she was feeling more nervous than she would ever let on. 

‘Let’s do it.’ he said, feeling a rush of adrenaline take him. 

One more step. 

************

Jiao-long surveyed the main room of the club that he owned and smiled to himself. It wasn’t a pleasant smile. It was thin and cruel and gave his ageless face a quality that would make most supernaturals uneasy. 

He was sitting in a cordoned off area, watching people come and go. His club was well known by others that existed between realms and almost every person in the place was personally vetted by himself with the exception of some of the short lived humans that graced the arms of his patrons, pretty toys that he himself was more than happy to partake of. Being over 800 years old meant having rather jaded tastes, and many of them were not easily satisfied. 

Which was one of the reasons he noticed the new arrivals. 

The man was of consequence. Jiao-long recognised a supernatural of short life easily, although the amount of power floating around the man was interesting and surprising in equal measures. He gave him a thorough look, noting the golden eyes and excellent taste in suits. His companions were all witches, a common type supernatural from Europe. The red haired woman was strong, but she was subservient to the blond man. A gun for hire, as was the dark haired man. The two women on the blond man’s arms were pretty trinkets, but easily disregarded. He was more interested in what they brought with them to the party. 

The communication had come through one of the many channels that were used by the underground magical world. One of the things Jiao-long had never been able to get enough of, even in his very long life, was gambling. Once, his great country had been a hot bed of it. Now, of course, it was outlawed. Not that he paid very much attention to mortal laws. He still like to gamble with his particular vice being the back room games of mah jong that he played on nights like this. They were closed games, played among his associates that he trusted for things that people might not have understood. And Jiao-long liked to win so he made sure that he did. 

Normally he would not have allowed himself to be solicited. He had spent a lifetime surrounding himself with known quantities. And he knew absolutely nothing about the man called Anders Johnson other than he’d recently taken the antiques world by storm, both magical and non-magical. No-one knew just how he’d managed to procure the quality of merchandise that he had, but he was now a regular at auctions and had a nose for finding just the right piece for his clients. Supernaturals knew he was magical, although there wasn’t a single one that Jiao-long had spoken to that knew exactly what the man was. He was certainly a man of power, Jiao-long could feel that much. He would certainly need a serious amount of money and influence to buy the services of witches as powerful as the ones he had with him. In spite of his success and standing in the business world, however, he had resisted all attempts by Jiao-long to find out very much about him.

However, Jiao-long was not one to be cautious when the occasion demanded it. He had even done some business with the man, which was how the communication came to be delivered. It had been polite and respectful in tone and the man offered something that Jiao-long had coveted for centuries but had resigned himself to never getting his hands on. Not many people had heard of the Oyuun seal. Or that if it was affixed to a document, the subject of that document would fall under the writer’s complete control, no matter how powerful they might be. It had long been considered to have been lost to the ages. But then Jiao-long had received an email, not even coded mind you, with a picture of the very object accompanied by a request for an invitation to Jiao-long’s club written in Old Chinese and so beautifully worded that Jiao-long had been quite taken aback. 

He’s ignored his better judgement and invited the man to Shanghai.

He sat and watched as the man was directed towards him and he sat up straight. He knew he was an imposing sight and he was a little surprised to see the self-confidence with which the man carried himself even as he got to Jiao-long. He was further surprised when the man gave him a traditional Chinese greeting and spoke to him in flawless Mandarin. 

{Jiao-long.} he said, and even his inflection was perfect. {I am honoured to be here in your presence this evening.} He smiled and it was a smile that Jiao-long recognised instantly, the smile of a man who prefers to play his cards to his chest. He felt a twinge of something he had not felt in decades, an unease that did not sit well with him. He gestured to the empty seat at his table. 

{Please.} he said. {It is my pleasure to meet you Mr Johnson. You have certainly made quite an impression. I would be delighted if you would join me.} The man known as Anders Johnson inclined his head and took the offered seat. Jiao-long gave him a discreet once over. The suit was beautifully cut, no doubt Saville Row. Only they could make something that hung so beautifully. There was a simple stainless steel Rolex Explorer on the man’s wrist and his dark blond hair was immaculate. His eyes were an almost shocking blue. 

{You honour me.} he replied and Jiao-long gave him a measured smile. He snapped his fingers, and the lurking server vanished into the dark of the alcove behind them. 

{Well, I couldn’t possibly turn own such a well-worded communique.} he said. {I look forward to doing business in person.} He looked at the four witches that were standing in attendance. {You have bought what is necessary.} Anders Johnson nodded to the red-haired woman and she came forward and placed the briefcase on the table between them and opened it. 

{Ten million Yuan as requested.} he said. {I believe that was the required buy in.}

[It was.} Jiao-long said. He let his fingers drift over the money. {And the other?] Anders Johnson smiled once more and patted his breast pocket. 

{I carry that a little closer.} he said. {I’m sure you appreciate the need for discretion, so I would only be comfortable showing it to you in more…appropriate circumstances.}

{But of course.} Jiao-long replied. The server reappeared with champagne and glasses, pouring and serving. Anders Johnson took his glass and held it up in a toast.

{Here’s to a new and hopefully very mutually beneficial partnership.} he said. {And an enjoyable evening.}

{Indeed.} Jiao-long replied and sipped his drink.

The evening passed and the club filled up and got loud. The music thumped and the lights were now turned down to the point of darkness. The series of alcoves around the room were now witness to some very interesting activities.

On the dance floor, Bee and Niemh moved in perfect synchronisation with each other. They were in sight of the alcove that was still occupied by Anders and Jiao-long. The wizard seemed to be quite taken with Anders and they had been in conference for a few hours already. A pair of yuo guai had relieved Gemma of the briefcase and she and Kyle were now at the back of the alcove standing attendance on Anders.

They were actually very impressed. Anders was pulling off his role to perfection and Jiao-long seemed to be buying it. They would have to wait only a short time further for Jiao-long to decide that the game was to begin and then he would move into the room deep within the maze of tunnels that made up this particular place. 

Been pulled Niemh into her and swayed them to the music. 

‘I hope this works.’ she said into Niemh’s ear.

‘Me too.’ Niemh replied.

***********

As the evening progressed, more people arrived to sit at Jiao-long’s table. There were now four of them, the optimal number for the evening’s activities. And like Anders, they all seemed to be creatures of means. 

The million Pounds in the briefcase was now thankfully a drop in the Keeper’s financial ocean. The seal in his pocket was the thing that he was more concerned with. It could cause a great deal of damage, and one thing Anders had learned in the past year was the value of control. His own powers had grown in this respect. It was easy to control humans, their suggestibility almost childlike to him. supernaturals were more difficult, their powers either facilitating or hindering the ability to tell them what to do. Certain ones were completely immune and others were simply too dangerous to try and influence. Jiao-long was one of the latter. 

Anders sat and looked at his fellow players. One of his other unique abilities was coming into play now as he watched them talk to each other. His ability to detect truths and falsehoods had been honed by working with his Keepers, who he had discovered were skilled liars, a necessity in their profession. He’d discovered that the key to a good lie was simply to believe it was the truth, which was why those whose confidence in their ability to deceive others made them more of a challenge to read. 

A challenge. Not impossible.

Of the four people sitting at the table now, Anders could say that the only one of them who would be capable of hiding things from him in the short term was their host, although if the game stretched into the evening as it was said to do, he would eventually be able to read what he was thinking almost as easily as if it was written down in front of him. He had no plans for trickery tonight. Instead he would simply do what poker players the world over did and catch people out by using their tells. It was just that he was far more sensitively attuned than even the most technologically advanced lie detector.

There was a subtle movement behind him and Anders felt the tension in both Kyle and Gemma. His lieutenants were alert and protective and he could feel their unease at the whole situation. If they were found out, if their real reason for coming here was to be discovered they all knew they could quite well be killed. Anders had initially wanted to come alone, to stop them for being exposed to the risk but that had gotten him a lecture from Gemma on their concern for his safety that had taken several hours. Finally he’d given in and accepted that they were not going to let him go anywhere unaccompanied. If he was being honest, the very thought that these four people were ready to follow him into a literal dragon’s den meant the world to him and he was so thankful he would never be able to adequately express it in words. 

He’d always wondered what it would be like to have people that had his back without him even needing to ask. To be part of a family where unconditional acceptance was never bargained for with favours. Where his power wasn’t just a commodity. Now he knew.

Anders looked at the other two people who had joined him and Jiao-long. Apart from the dragon-wizard, the others’ were wizards of varying ability. The man looked to be in his sixties, silver haired and wearing sombre black robes that Anders could hear was Japanese. The woman was western, her thick black hair and pale skin contrasting with ice blue eyes that watched Anders suspiciously. He was a little surprised to find that Jiao-long had included him as part of their number, but put that down to his nature. It was well-known among magical circles that dragons couldn’t possibly resist a good mystery, and he certainly was one of those. He’d been able to read it in the words that had been written back to him, the calligraphy immaculate and quite beautiful to someone who valued writing as much as he now did. Jiao-long had no idea what he was but was intrigued by his power and standing and had wanted to get a good sniff at him close up.

He looked at his host, who was wearing the skin of a pleasant looking middle aged Chinese man, contemporary and elegant in his beautifully cut suit. The only giveaway was the touch of gold, ever present and currently taking the form of a gold silk hand woven tie that Jiao-long was wearing. He felt a kinship to this rarest of creatures. Jiao-long was a dragon who hoarded treasure of the material kind. His hoard didn’t contain jewels or artefacts. Instead, he hoarded that which was most precious to him – knowledge. And it was all here, in a chamber deep under the ground where there were tunnels and caverns that contained the rarest and most sought after volumes of magic in this known world. 

And somewhere down there was the key to a doorway that would get back the greatest treasure that Anders would ever have.

He was impatient and the conversation around the table was boring, taking in business and things that had recently occupied them. It was tempting to try and speed things along, but he knew that would not be advisable. Dragons were long lived creatures and didn’t perceive time the same way everyone else did. 

{Mr Johnson} his name sounded odd with Jiao-longs unusual inflection. The Chinese he would have spoken was ancient and probably would have been unrecognisable to a modern day citizen of the country and it was still there in the traces of accent. {As you are the newest member of this particular club, it is tradition that we walk in together.} Jiao-long gave him a courteous smile, and Anders had to resist the urge to throw his hands up and say ‘Finally!’. He stood up and briefly locked eyes with his lieutenants. Their faces gave nothing away. Then he followed Jiao-long from the booth. The girls were still on the dance floor, and Anders felt a little flicker of concern from Bee, Niemh’s feelings translating through her Other as well. He was going to leave them there to keep watch as it were. Later they would be called into play. 

They walked towards the back of the room to where a pair of crimson curtains were draped across a heavy double wooden door. Two you guai flanked the doors and they grasped the ornate handles shaped like dragons to pull them back and reveal a room behind. The group filed in and stood in the space. There was a simple elm wood table and four bamboo chairs upholstered in jade green silk. Jiao-long made a small gesture and four servers came to pull out the chairs, inviting the guests to sit. He took the chair in the East prevailing wind position, indicating that he would begin play. Another server came forward with an intricately carved ebony box. It was inlaid with mother of pearl and he set it down in front of Jiao-long. He opened it and took out the tiles. They were exquisite, carved from ivory and inlaid rather than incised, the symbols picked out in different semi-precious stones. The craftsmanship was extraordinary and Ander’s now practised eye knew they probably dated back to at least the fifteenth century. 

{You know the rules, Mr Johnson?’} the woman’s voice was heavily accented. One of the unexpected abilities that had come with his increased Bragi powers was the ability to detect precisely where someone was from based on their native language and the manner in they spoke it. He could hear she was Siberian, from the north east of the country. Jiao-long had introduced her as Milla. There had been no last name.

{Please, call me Anders.} he said and gave her the benefit of a smile that used to have knickers dropping faster than you could say one night stand. She raised one immaculate black eyebrow and inclined her head slightly. 

{Anders.} she repeated, her voice speculative. {You are Scandinavian?]

{My family was originally.} he replied, accepting a glass of scotch whisky from one of the doll-like women who was serving them. {But I am actually from New Zealand.}

{And yet you speak Mandarin like a native.} she said. {That is impressive. It has taken me a very long time to learn and I fear my accent makes me unintelligible.}

{On the contrary.} Anders said. {I find it charming. It makes you sound very exotic.} He was interrupted by the soft clap of Jiao-long’s hands. 

‘Milla. Kabushi-san. Please.} he said and invited them to complete the ‘Twittering of the Sparrows’. They complied, shuffling the tiles. Once they were finished each member of the group selected thirty four tiles and constructed a wall two high and seventeen long in front of them. Then they pushed the walls together to form the square of play. 

Jiao-long gestured again and another four servers stepped forward. They each held a lacquered tray, on which were stacks of gold coins. This was the buy in, the millions pounds that had been spent to be used in the game itself. As the stakes got higher, however, other things could be used as collateral. It was the precise reason for Anders having the seal in his pocket and why he’d made such a risky move as to come try and beat Jiao-long at his own game.

He was hoping to make a bet that would buy him a chance to get into the dragon’s lair.

Jaio-long gestured a third time and a die made of rock crystal appeared above his outstretched palm.

‘{Let us begin.} he said and cast it onto the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mah Jong is a fascinating and very complex game that can take several hours when played in the Ancient Chinese fashion. That is what is being played in this chapter.
> 
> All conversation in brackets is in Mandarin.


	6. Capture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad things start to happen...

Mitchell dreamed.

He was lost in a never ending maze of dark stone, following a golden light that danced just out of reach every time he got close to it. He was infuriated because he kept getting to where he could almost touch it and then it drifted away again, an echo of laughter that was so very familiar in his ears. He stopped and the light stayed still, bobbing just ahead of him. It glowed brightly, almost as if it was mocking him.

‘God you’re such a cock, Anders.’ Mitchell said and the light exploded.

He awoke with a violent lunge up off the bed, fangs out and lips pulled back in a snarl, completely startling Jinta who snarled back, her own sharp black teeth exposed. They glared at each other, both trying to get their breath back.

‘What is it?’ Mitchell hissed and she held a finger to her lips. Mitchell frowned and then he realised that Orrik was standing behind her with Anubis by his side. The hell hound was tense, every muscle taut as he sniffed the air. Orrik held out Mitchell’s staff and then Mitchell felt it. The overwhelming sense of despair that the very air seemed to bring with it into the house, along with the very real reek of old blood.

‘They have found us.’ Jinta whispered. ‘We do not know how. Come.’ Mitchell didn’t ask any questions. He got up and followed her out into the night, Anubis by his side.

Then he looked down from their vantage point and if his blood could have run any colder it would have. He could sense that there was not a single soldier in the troops collected at the base of the outcrop the village that was alive.

‘They have come for me.’ he said, knowing the truth in it the second he said the words.

*********

Anders stared at the tile in his hand. He was doing fairly well, but he knew that he would have to up his game. For one crazy moment he wished that Mike was with him. He placed the tile and waited, hiding his smile behind his hand as the woman next to him swore in Mandarin. He was feeling pretty smug for the move he’d just pulled when something swept through him and it was so unsettling that his stomach began to churn immediately. A few seconds later and he was nauseous.

Anders looked back at Kyle and saw the concern on Kyle’s face. He could no doubt feel that something was not right. He stepped forward to Anders, his blue-grey eyes sharp.

‘Ti sente bene?’ he asked. Anders looked back at him.

‘Qualcosa è sbagliato.’ he replied. ‘Posso sentirlo.’

‘Vuoi andare via?’ Kyle said. Anders considered his options. He looked back at the others and saw that Jiao-long was watching him and Kyle intently.

‘No.’ he said and then addressed Jiao-long.

{My stomach.} he said in Mandarin and Jiao-long inclined his head. {I fear that stress and overexcitement get the better of me. My apologies for the interruption.}

{It is understandable.} Jiao-long replied. {Perhaps your man can get you something. It would be a pity to suspend our game.}

Anders nodded.

**********

Mitchell knew that one of the reasons Jinta’s tribe had managed to last this long without being butchered and taken by the slavers was because they always had a backup plan. That and they ruthlessly slaughtered anyone that came up against them, being crafty and proficient fighters. But when he had stepped out onto the rocky terrace that overlooked the stretch of desert below the village and seen nothing but a dark mass below them, he knew they were horribly outnumbered and had no choice but to run.

‘What are they waiting for?’ Orrik said. ‘Surely they are here to attack?’

‘They want me.’ Mitchell said. ‘They aren’t interested in you.’

‘Then we stay and fight them together.’ Jinta declared. ‘They will have to get through us first.’

‘No! You must listen to me and get out of here. Go!’ Mitchell said, trying to sound like he wasn’t filled with fear. Jinta shook her head vehemently.

‘No.’ she protested. ‘We will stay and fight.’

‘Have you looked down there?’ Mitchell replied. ‘We have less than two hundred fighters here. Whoever sold us out has told them exactly how many people we have.’ He stared out into the darkness, his vampire sight picking up the individual shapes of the soldiers collected below. There was a churning fear in his stomach. ‘There’s close on a thousand vampires down there, Jinta. They are going to kill all of you if you don’t leave now.’

‘Then come with us!’ Jinta sounded desperate and it tore at him. ‘You cannot give yourself to them.’

‘It’s the only way to distract them.’ Mitchell shook his head. ‘You will be slaughtered of you stay. And once they have me, they will more than likely let you get away.’ He looked into her black eyes. ‘You know that the only reason they have come is for me.’

‘Mitchell.’ Jinta’s eyes were full of anguish. ‘Please. We need you with us.’

‘No, you don’t.’ Mitchell said. He looked behind her and saw all the others standing watching them. ‘You didn’t need me before and you will not need me now to carry on. You are the ones who taught me to fight.’ Orrik stepped forward, hand on Jinta’s shoulder.

‘You are our King.’ he said. ‘We would die in our defence of you.’

‘And that’s why you have to go.’ Mitchell pleaded. ‘Please. I could not live with myself if I knew that I could have saved you. If I hand myself over to them peacefully, I can buy you time.’ He looked behind Jinta and Orrik and saw the crowd parting as Marush and Zak came through. Marush’s third eye was open and glowing an eerie blue in the darkness. Zak was clinging to her hand. When they got to him, Marush put her wrinkled hand on his arm. Mitchell looked at her and saw understanding, compassion and a resignation that terrified him.

‘Come.’ she said. ‘We shall go down together.’

‘Marush…’ Jinta started to protest and Marush shushed her sharply. Next to her, Zak was silent, but Mitchell could see the shine of tear tracks on his dark skin.

‘I am the Seer of this tribe.’ Marush said, her voice stern. ‘I serve the Shadow King and it is by his side I will walk.’ Then her face softened as she looked at Jinta, gently disentangling her hand from Zak’s and handing him over to the warrior. ‘Go child. You have many years, you and your mate and your young one. We are old and have lived enough. All I ask is that you tale Zak and ensure his safety.’

‘No!’ Zak protested, starting to cry in earnest. ‘You cannot leave me!’ He looked pleadingly at Mitchell, twisting his hand from Jinta’s grasp before he ran back and threw himself at Mitchell. Mitchell felt his own grip on his helplessness starting to unravel and dropped to his knees. Zak threw his arms around his neck and clung on.

‘Please!’ he sobbed into Mitchell’s shoulder. ‘Please! You promised you wouldn’t go!’

‘I know.’ Mitchell felt like his heart was about to break for the second time. ‘But Zak this is too dangerous. They would take you away from me and do things that don’t even bear imagining. Please go with Jinta, for my sake. I need to know you’ll be safe.’ He looked up at her. ‘You’ll make sure?’

‘I will.’ Jinta replied. Mitchell had to physically pull Zak away from him and hand him back to her. Zak went, now inconsolable and Jinta handed him off to Orrik, who picked the boy up and held him tightly. Mitchell wanted desperately to say something to comfort him, but knew he couldn’t. Instead he looked at them both, his closest friends since he’d ended up in the darkened hell.

‘Thank you.’ he said.

‘We shall keep fighting.’ Jinta said. She lifted her chin defiantly. ‘Walk well through the night, Shadow King.’ The gathered clan behind her raised their staffs, a deep cry coming from each and every one, young and old alike. Then they turned and almost as one melted into the shadows as they moved through the rocks and dwellings to disappear using the trails they knew. Mitchell waited until they had all gone from sight and looked at Marush.

‘You have the ring?’ she asked and he nodded, digging it out of his pocket where he kept it. He handed it to her and she took it from him then gestured for his hand. Mitchell gave his left to her and she slid the ring onto his middle finger, the cold metal seeming to almost bite into his skin. 

Mitchell nodded and then moved to Anubis. Marush followed him and the hell-hound crouched for Mitchell to help her onto his back. He climbed up in front of her and she wrapped her skinny arms around him to steady herself. Anubis started to make his way down the side of the outcrop and Mitchell sat up straight, balancing his staff across his knees. Marush made an approving noise.

‘Yes.’ she said. ‘We shall show them who you are.’

**********

The pain grew greater, tightening and becoming an intense ball in Anders’ stomach. He was starting to have serious trouble focusing on his game. He could feel the sweat collecting in his hairline and running down his back under his suit. Kyle had bought him something for his ‘indigestion’ but it had been of little help. Jiao-long was watching him, his one eyebrow raised. Not only that, but all the other players had stopped to look at him.

Something flooded Anders’ mind, thick and sticky and choking him with a nameless fear. The pain flared as bright as magnesium in water and he doubled over, the die falling from his hand as the air around him lit up with gold flame. The green baize caught fire quickly, the whole table going up as he managed to get up from his chair only to fall to the floor as he struggled desperately for breath.

‘Anders!’ Kyle was suddenly kneeling next to him. He managed to get Anders up, loosening his tie and trying to get him to breathe. Anders could feel his worry and tried to speak, to reassure him, but he couldn’t. He reached out and Kyle took his hand, his fingers tightening around Anders’ own.  
Anders could only vaguely hear Kyle’s voice. Inside him the pain was spreading, and he knew what it was as surely as he knew his own name.

John.

His Other was in trouble. His Other was going to be hurt.

His Other was going to die.

**********

They stood, a wall of dark sentinels. Mitchell wrinkled his nose as they grew nearer. He’d always hated his own smell, that slight reek of old blood that clung to all vampires. It was why he laid the deodorant on so thick it made Anders sneeze.

The vampire soldiers in front of him didn’t care how they smelled and it washed over him in a great roiling wave that made his eyes turn black and his fangs descend of their own accord. There were two lines moving to create an avenue for him to ride down and Anubis growled low in his throat as they approached. Mitchell put his hand to his shoulder and soothed him.

‘It’s all right.’ he said, keeping his voice low. They were almost at the end of the row of soldiers, and he saw two vampires sitting on the strange quadrupeds they used as beasts of burden in this realm. They were almost identical, bar one was a woman and the other a man. They had the same unearthly pallor of all vampires Mitchell had encountered, their pale blond hair and blue eyes almost colourless. Both were richly dressed in shade upon shade of black, trimmed with silver and they wore cloaks over their uniforms that were lined with purple.

‘They call themselves royalty.’ Marush hissed behind him. ‘Pretenders to the throne.’

Mitchell held his head high, staring them straight in the eye. He gave Anubis a soft touch as they came face to face and the hell-hound halted.

‘So this is the Shadow King.’ The man said, his voice cold as his undead blood no doubt was. ‘He doesn’t look like much.’

‘No.’ The woman tilted her head and regarded Mitchell with her strange eyes. ‘He looks barely above the scum he associates with. Cattle and slaves.’

Mitchell bristled at their dismissive tone. He’d heard it every time Herrick had spoken about a human.

‘These cattle and slaves have more honour than you ever will.’ he replied.

‘Do you hear that Laithan?’ The woman smiled and it was thin and cruel. ‘It can speak.’ She nodded and several soldiers came forward from behind her. ‘Let’s see how good it is at listening. Come done and give yourself into our custody and those pathetic things that have been harbouring you will be allowed to escape unharmed. If they can make it far enough.’

‘No.’ Mitchell said. ‘I want your word they will be left unharmed. When you have me, you and all your troops will leave this place and not return.’

‘It bargains!’ Laithan laughed. ‘Cassiopeia, have you ever seen the like.’ He gave Mitchell a condescending up and down. ‘Such a scrawny thing too. No doubt living off charity, a sip here and there. Probably hasn’t had a proper kills in months.’

‘I don’t kill.’ Mitchell said. ‘I am not an animal.’ Laithan scoffed.

‘You are weak.’ he sneered. ‘Afraid to take your rightful place among us.’

‘I do not need to subject the people of this world to tyranny and oppression to gain their obedience.’ Mitchell retorted. ‘I do not need to subjugate others to prove my strength.’

‘Fool!’ Laithan hissed. ‘You’ll soon be begging for our lenience.’

‘Enough!’ Cassiopeia’s voice rung out and Mitchell noticed that Laithan shut up immediately. That told him plenty about the dynamics of that particular relationship. ‘Do you accept our terms?’

‘I do.’ he said. ‘But only on condition that my companions are not to be harmed. Do what you will with me, but when you are finished they will be allowed to go free.’

‘Agreed.’ Cassiopeia said. ‘Throw down your weapon.’

Mitchell did as she asked, the staff sending up a cloud of dust as it hit the ground. He then got off Anubis, slowly and raised his hands to show he was unarmed. He took two steps forward and the soldiers surrounded him. Behind him, Anubis whined and Mitchell turned to speak, to comfort him, but even as he did one of the soldiers stepped forward and swung the heavy pike he carried at the back of Mitchell’s knees. The pain made his legs buckle and Mitchell crashed into the dirt.

‘No!’ Marush called out behind him and Mitchell started to rise, but then there was another blow and another, raining down until all he could hear was Marush screaming and Anubis howling before he mercifully blacked out.

**********  
‘NO!’ Anders shouted the word and threw Kyle off of him. The pain in his head was blinding and the anger that roiled up inside him was almost tangible. All around him was sound and darkness and the feeling that he was being beaten into the dirt. He made a colossal effort and staggered to his feet, golden flame swirling around him, raging out of control. He noticed with an odd sense of disassociation that the entire room was now on fire, the other players scattering out the now open doors and the dancers beyond screaming in panic as they saw the flames licking out of the room and into the main part of the club, scattering to escape.

Anders looked down at his hands, staring at the fire he was creating and completely unable to stop it. The he glanced up and saw Kyle and Gemma standing in front of him. Behind them Jiao-long was also on his feet, his dark eyes filled with shock. Somewhere in the screaming, panicking throng Anders could just feel Bee and Niemh fighting their way towards the booth.  
{So.} Jiao-long’s voice cut through the noise like he was speaking directly into Anders’ head. {Not just a businessman.} His voice was deeper, more sonorous. {A mage.}

‘Shit.’ Gemma was succinct as always. She now had Anders propped up on one side and Kyle one the other. ‘Anders. You need to fix this.’

Anders lifted his head. His eyes met those of the dragon.

{Yes.} he said. {And you have something I want.} Almost on cue, the yuo guai started to snarl, their faces changing and bodies twisting as they shifted. 

{I can imagine that this was why you came here.} Jiao-long said, moving around the table so his back was to the interior wall. {It’s a pity we did not finish our game. You could have used the seal to get what you want. But now you are revealed and shall have to respectfully postpone the opportunity for you to get what you came in search of.}

{Then you don’t get the seal.} Anders could barely stand the pain was so bad. He shut his eyes for a second, pulling up a bank of memories that he’d kept carefully repressed his entire life. Memories of fists and blood and bruises. It gave him strength and he managed to stand up straight, opening his eyes and staring head on at the dragon. {So I am sure we can come to an agreement.}

{I think not, Mr Johnson.} Jiao-long said. Behind him the wall began to split, the concrete cracking as two sections swung inwards revealing a passageway behind him. {And now I fear I must leave you.} He stepped inside and they swung back and slammed closed. The yuo guai were now fully transformed and they surrounded them, growling as they formed a circle. Strips of their shredded clothing still clung to their bodies, a rancid stench coming from their exposed skin. Almost as one, they drew back their wrinkled muzzles and snarled. 

‘Fuck.’ Kyle said as they moved to stand back to back. His hands lit up with blue flame. ‘This is not how it was supposed to go down.’

‘Like it ever works out like it should.’ Gemma said. She extended her hands, her own crimson fire licking up and down her arms. The yuo guai were starting to close in. ‘Anders?’

‘I need to get in through that door.’ Anders ground out, barely able to speak. ‘I need the girls in here now.’

‘Hang in there.’ Kyle said. He looked at Gemma. ‘Now?’

‘Now.’ Gemma said and they cast the fire forth, snaking trails of blue and crimson flame interlacing and curling around the legs of the demons. It started to burn, an awful stink of hair and skin filling the air as the demons started to howl in pain. They fell to the ground scrabbling at their singed hides and Anders watched with no pity as they were overcome. He looked to the door as Bee and Niemh ran in and pointed at the wall.

‘Open it.’ He spat out, and then folded like a collapsing house of cards.

‘Anders!’ Bee came to him immediately and he waved her off.

‘No.’ he said. ‘Open it. Jiao-long has gone inside and we need to follow him.’ Bee looked up at Niemh and she nodded, her face grim. She walked through the flames to the wall, her hands going up as she started to break the spell that hid the door. Kyle came to help Bee get Anders to his feet.

‘What is wrong with him?’ Bee asked and Kyle shook his head, looking at Anders.

‘I’ve seen this before.’ he said and there was dark current of dread under his words. ‘It’s Mitchell.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Bee asked and then it clicked into place. ‘Oh no.’

‘The bond is starting to break.’ Anders rasped. ‘He’s in pain. I can feel it. They’re going to kill him, wherever he is.’ He looked at Kyle, his golden eyes like the inside of the sun. ‘I can’t let that happen.’

‘It won’t.’ Kyle said, still keeping him on his feet. ‘We’re going to go in there and get what we need and then we’re getting back on that plane and going straight to Pennsylvania. You just need to be strong until we get that spell. Then you can rest.’

Anders nodded, gritting his teeth and pushing the pain inside him away like he used to when Johan had taken his belt to him. He focused on the dark quiet in his head, that soft velvety place that belonged to Mitchell, and then shoved Kyle and Bee away. He stood on his own feet, a little unsteady but upright. Ahead of him Niemh was still trying to break the spell and he went to her, putting his hand on her shoulder.

‘I think we need a blunter instrument.’ he said and she glanced past him to Gemma. Gemma nodded and came towards them. She stood alongside Niemh and looked at Anders. Anders looked back. ‘Blow it open.’

‘You’ll need to stand back.’ Gemma said. ‘And throw up a shield. These are pretty close quarters.’

They all moved back, throwing up their defences as Gemma simple raised her hands to the wall. The power was thickening around them as she started to focus her magic. Crimson flames sprang up around her feet, adding to the fire already raging around them. The she released it and there was a sound like a building collapsing. The wall shattered inward and outward, spraying chunks of brick and mortar through into the air.

They all came to stand behind her and looked down into the darkened staircase that ran down into the earth.

‘What do they say about dragons again?’ Kyle said and they all looked at him. ‘Think we’re going to find a hoard down there?’

‘I think that’s very fucking likely.’ Anders said. The pain was a little bit more bearable but he still leaned on Kyle’s shoulder. ‘Shall we?’ Gemma turned to them, her eyes nothing but red fire.

‘Once more into the breach dear friends.’ she said and started walking down the stairs.


End file.
